Love in the Dark

by 12 Book Boxed Set (epub)

  “Wrap your legs around my waist,” he commanded me and I did so eagerly. He unzipped his pants again and pulled his cock out. And placed it at my entrance.

  “But you have no condom,” I said looking at him.

  “Don’t worry.” He kissed my lips and grinned. “I can control myself. I want to feel you coming on my dick. Right now. In this elevator,” he said and then he entered me.

  I bit down on his shoulder as he thrust into me, my pussy closing on his cock like it never wanted to be without him again. “Come for me, Piper, come for me.”

  He kissed me hard and rotated his hips so that his cock was hitting me in a different spot. Then he moved his fingers down to my clit and rubbed me as well and I felt the waves come crashing down as I climaxed hard. He groaned as my body trembled against the wall and I held onto him tight. He thrust into me a few more times and then pulled out with a small smile. “That’s about as much control as I have right now,” he said.

  When the elevator stopped again, we practically ran to his room, and I waited for him to open the door.

  “Nice room,” I said as I looked around briefly, but Zach didn’t have time for that. He was ripping his clothes off and then mine and placing me on the bed. He buried his head between my legs and I felt his tongue licking up all my juices.

  “You taste so good,” he said as he kissed back up to my lips. “Now it’s my turn.”

  “Do you have a condom?”

  “Yes.”

  He reached over to the side table and pulled a wrapper out of it, ripped it open and slipped it on.

  “Get on your knees,” he said and then came up behind me. I leaned forward and placed my hands in front of me and felt him entering me from behind in one long, deep stroke. He slammed into me with abandon, while reaching around me and grabbing my breasts. It was only a couple of minutes later that I felt him shuddering inside of me and then sliding out of me. We both fell back on the bed, panting deeply and he reached over and touched my hair lightly.

  “So … it’s good seeing you again,” he said wryly. “Thanks for giving me a third chance.”

  “Uh-huh,” I said with a small smile and reached over to touch his face. “You’re a very lucky man.”

  “Yes, I am.” He lightly traced a hand across my stomach. “I haven’t forgotten that I still owe you dinner.”

  “Yes, you do. I’m starved,” I said, and with that, he reached over, grabbed a room service menu and handed it to me.

  “I haven’t had such a delicious burger and fries in a while.” I happily licked the last remnants of salt from my fingers. “That really hit the spot.”

  “Yes, my cock did seem to hit several spots, didn’t it?” He watched me as I ate in my big white fluffy robe on top of the bed. He was seated naked in the chair opposite the bed, just staring at me. “I’ve never seen a woman eat so voraciously,” he said as I put my plate down on the side table.

  “Maybe that’s because you live in LA?” I said with a small shrug. “I’m a writer, no one cares if I’m as skinny as a pencil, so I can actually enjoy food.”

  “Skinny as a pencil, ha.” He laughed. “I’m glad you’re not as skinny as a pencil.” He licked his lips and I could see his cock growing.

  “Now it’s my turn. I wanted to ask you some questions.” I took a deep breath. This hadn’t quite gone the way that I’d expected. I hadn’t wanted to have sex with him again, and I certainly didn’t expect to be asking him what could potentially be hard-hitting questions from his bed dressed in nothing but a hotel robe.

  “Okay,” he leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. “Getting down to business, I see.”

  “You have to be honest.”

  “I’ll be honest,” he said as he stood up tall and I stared at his gloriously lean and strong muscular body.

  It suddenly struck me just how fit he was—beyond just being sexy, I mean. If things got ugly, there was no way that I’d be able to take him down and leave. I really was a dumbass. Had I put myself in danger for some love-making? Granted, it was the best sex I’d ever had in my life, but was it worth it now that he was in a position of power over me? I was really nervous right now. What if I found out something I didn’t want to know?

  “First, let me say a few things,” he said as he made his way over to the bed and lay down on the mattress. He leaned forward and untied my belt. The robe fell open. He took in the sight of my naked body and smiled. “Take your robe off,” he ordered, but I just sat there. “Take it off, Piper.”

  “What if I don’t want to?”

  “Oh, but you do. You very much want to take it off,” he said, his eyes gazing into mine and daring me to argue with him.

  “I don’t really care either way,” I said coolly as I slipped the robe off. The game of cat and mouse had started, and I needed to let him know who was boss. “Though I should call Alexa in a little bit. She knows I’m here at the Fairmont with you, and I don’t want her to worry as I didn’t tell her I’d be spending the night.”

  “I don’t think she’ll be staying up the night waiting for you to get home.”

  “She worries.”

  “I bet she’s already in bed.”

  “If I don’t make it home by a certain time, she will likely call the police. She’s over-dramatic like that.”

  “There are many places we could be by the time happens.”

  “If I’m not back home by morning, she’ll panic. She knows I have a deadline.”

  “For your book, huh?”

  “Yes.” I nodded and swallowed hard.

  “It would be a pity if you weren’t able to finish that book, wouldn’t it?”

  “I guess so.” I shrugged, looking away nonchalantly. I was not going to tell him about vampires falling in love right now. He’d laugh me off of the bed.

  “I could whisk you away before that could ever happen.”

  “Against my will?”

  “Would it really be against your will, though?” His finger stroked my shoulder and his eyes stared into mine hard. I shivered at the look on his face. This was no intimate gaze. This was a hard, searching look. What had he done? And was he aware that I might know?

  “I want you to tell me about Radley Markham,” I said, finally cutting to the chase. I’d intended to skirt around the issue to catch him unaware, but I needed the element of surprise.

  His face twisted, and for a second, I saw a flash of sadness in his gaze. The room was silent, save for our breathing, as we both sat there. I stared at his eyes, his lips, his hands, hands that had just made me come in the most magnificent of ways, and I wanted to believe that somehow Alexa had gotten it wrong. I wanted to believe that Zach had nothing to do with Radley. Maybe it hadn’t even been him in the photo. Or Jackson. Maybe he had never met him.

  “Zach?” I prompted.

  “What do you want to know?” His voice was bleak, and my heart sank.

  “Did you have anything to do with Radley Markham’s disappearance?” I asked the question I cared about most and then wondered if I should have led with what Spacecoast69 had mentioned.

  “So it’s true.” He sighed. He reached forward and touched my lips gently and shook his head. “I tried to tell myself it wasn’t true, but it’s true. You should have been an actress in Hollywood, Piper, you really should.”

  “Don’t change the subject, Zach. I want to know.” I swallowed hard, and I knew my body was flushed with anxiety. If this went badly, I was going to be all alone. I had lied earlier. Alexa didn’t know I was here at the Fairmont. She’d known I was heading to Kells to meet Zach, yes, but when I’d left, I hadn’t told her anything. I hadn’t wanted her to get upset.

  “Yes, Piper, I had something to do with Radley Markham’s disappearance.”

  My heart stopped. I couldn’t quite believe it. “What happened?” I asked, trying to make sure I didn’t directly ask him if he’d killed him.

  “If I give you this information, you need to do something for me.”

  “W
hat?”

  “You need to call Alexa right now and tell her you’re not coming home.”

  “Not coming home?” I blinked at him. “What?”

  “That’s all I’m going to say for now.”

  “What if I want to leave?”

  “You’re not going to leave now, Piper. So I’m going to have you call Alexa and tell her that you’re not coming home.”

  “Are you going to hurt me?” I whispered.

  “I would never hurt you, Piper.” He traced a finger down my cheek. “Never.”

  “So why do I have to call Alexa?”

  “If I tell you what I’m going to tell you, then I can’t have you leaving me … right away.” He added on the last words and I wondered if they were there to make me feel better. Was he ever going to let me leave?

  “I don’t know.”

  He pushed me back onto the bed and kissed down my neck and along my collarbone as his right hand fondled my breasts. I couldn’t breathe and I couldn’t tell him to stop. I didn’t want to. The danger in the air was palpable, but so was the sex. I wanted him in ways that I’d never wanted anyone before and I was feeling things that I shouldn’t be. I didn’t even recognize myself. Zach Houston had me like a puppet on a string. I couldn’t move as I waited to see what he was going to do next.

  “I want to fuck you again,” he said against my mouth, biting down on my lower lip a little too hard before sucking it into his mouth. “I want to hear you screaming my name. You’re going to be mine, Piper. You’re going to do exactly what I want, do you hear me?”

  “I hear you,” I said as my fingers ran down his back. “But what I don’t hear is you answering my question. That was the deal, Zach. I want to know.”

  “You want to know, eh?” He hovered over me, his cock resting on my stomach, growing harder with each second. I reached down to stroke it and he growled against my mouth, his eyes seeming to stare into my soul. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know, Piper.” He kissed along my jawbone to my ear and then whispered. “I was with Radley on the night that he disappeared, and I know exactly what happened. I know because I’m the one that did it.”

  The End

  Thank you for reading THE PLAYBOY!

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  Begin With Me

  CLAUDIA BURGOA

  Begin With Me

  CLAUDIA BURGOA

  From the outside, Abby’s life looks like a fairytale.

  * * *

  Loving family, wealthy lifestyle, education at a prestigious university. The truth? She’s barely managing to survive. Few know the nightmare she lived before she was adopted. And no one knows the secret agony that still haunts her nightmares.

  * * *

  With a degree from Berkeley, she could have gone anywhere, but she’s back in Colorado. Not for a fresh start—fresh starts are only an illusion—but for Wes Ahern. Her protector, who throws around words like “therapy” and “talk to me.” Her brother in every way but blood. The one man she wishes could be so much more.

  * * *

  Maybe, just this once, she can stop running from her demons.

  * * *

  But does she dare let Wes see inside the darkest closets of her pain…or will love be the biggest mistake of her life?

  “I fell in love with her courage, her sincerity, and her flaming self-respect. And it's these things I'd believe in, even if the whole world indulged in wild suspicions that she wasn't all she should be. I love her, and it is the beginning of everything.” ― F. Scott Fitzgerald

  Prologue

  I can pinpoint the moment when Abigail Lyons lost her optimism. It was the day her grandmother died. That’s when I began to talk about myself in third person, imagining the worst that could happen and learning to dissociate when my brain couldn’t handle the input.

  It was the same day I stopped laughing with ease and speaking my mind confidently. At sixteen though, that’s when I went quiet for good. The day I lost all hope, became swallowed by loneliness—leaving nothing more than a scared bundle of nerves who wanted to jump out of her own skin. At twenty-three not much has changed. But I try to hide my flaws and fears. Somedays I’m brave enough to fight against my mind to conquer the latter. Other days, I’m not so lucky.

  Like my fear of flying with a bunch of strangers. As the plane takes off, I close my eyes, hold onto my bracelet, and count the crystals. I’m not a fan of airplanes. They’re too small, there are too many people on board and anything could happen during the flight. Though, according to my best friend, Wes, the probabilities of dying in a plane crash are one in eleven million. He once explained to me that it’s more likely to be hit by a meteorite, drown in my own bathtub, or get mauled by a bear in Yellowstone than die in a plane crash.

  He might be right about those statistics. But logic doesn’t apply to my phobia. Every time a plane takes off, my heart beats faster than a cheetah hunting for her next meal and sweat drips down my back. Honestly, I’m not afraid that the plane will lose altitude or collide with another aircraft. I fear that I’ll crash emotionally during the flight. The question for me isn’t whether or not the pilot loses control. My mind is asking, what if I have a full-blown panic attack in an environment where I don’t have control or any means for emotional release?

  When the pilot announces that we’re allowed to turn on our laptops and move around the cabin, I put on my wireless headphones and turn on my music. If I’m lucky, the two glasses of wine I downed before boarding, plus the one I drank before takeoff, might help me sleep during the almost three-hour flight. If I’m asleep, I won’t have to think about the people around me. Or the possibility of him finding me once I’m back in Denver.

  My throat tightens at the mere thought of seeing him again. I shut my eyes, squeezing them hard. My body trembles. It’s been so long that he shouldn’t have any effect on me. I count, controlling my breathing. But it’s impossible to calm myself when the images of what happened that night come back. The voices are back too. My heart beats wildly.

  Please, God, help me.

  Not now.

  “Run, Abigail, run,” I hear her desperate voice.

  I’m frozen in place. He’s getting closer to our room. This is my only chance to escape but I can’t move. My legs don’t respond. It’s like they weigh hundreds of pounds. The air thickens as his heavy steps get closer. I lift my gaze and I see him, staring at me with those swamp colored green eyes and a mocking smile on his face.

  “Try running,” he says with a daring glare and a smug tone. “Try to escape me, and if by some miracle you do, know that I’ll find you.”

  1

  Abby

  Abby Age Seventeen

  I grit my teeth harder with every breath I take. Are we far enough from…? I wrap my arms around myself. Don’t think about it, stay quiet, don’t call her attention. Let her believe you’re just in mourning.

  The mansion, hidden in the exclusive Cherry Hills neighborhood, looms proudly behind the iron gates. It’s flanked by rows of evergreens and Aspen trees. At its threshold stands a delicate marble fountain. Ms. Graves drives forward and stops right in front of the opulent porch. I take a deep breath and climb down from the large SUV, dragging in a plastic bag, the few belongings I was allowed to take with me.

  This place is how I always imagined palaces from fairy tales would look. I’ve lived north of Denver my entire life and the only times I left the area were for fieldtrips to the museums. Never in my dreams could I have imagined that there were homes nestled around the city that looked like this. The double front doors feature frosted glass framed by elegant wood, and on each side stood stone statues of lions. Two benches with matching planters hold bright flowers soaking in the sun of the late summer.

  Too good to be true, I mumble under my breath as I continue following my case manager.

  Who in their right mind would welcome me into their house? My mother barely ac
cepted me. What makes Ms. Graves think that these people will be willing to shelter me after everything that’s happened? But then again, maybe they don’t even know my history.

  Don’t say a word, Abigail, or you’ll pay.

  Terror overwhelms me. I drop my gaze to my feet counting my toes several times. My body shakes uncontrollably as the door opens. A middle-aged man wearing a blue suit smiles at us.

  “Ms. Graves?” I jerk at the sound of his deep male voice.

  “Yes, and this is Abigail Lyons,” she says straightening her back.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Lyons,” the man standing in front of me greets. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  He opens the door wider for us, stepping aside. I follow right behind Ms. Graves.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Ahern will be with you in just a minute,” he says, giving us a sharp nod and walking away.

  Ms. Graves squeezes my arm gently. “Everything is going to be fine,” she assures me.

  Poor, naïve Ms. Graves. She’s only prolonging my agony. She doesn’t understand that no matter where she takes me, I won’t be safe from those monsters. I not only fear them, but the memories. The ghosts remain by my side. They’re choking me with their cold hands and squeezing the life out of me. I have no idea why I even fight them. Sooner or later they’ll win.

  “Think positive,” she mumbles, sounding like one of those life coaches who try to make you believe that anything is possible. “This is your second chance. You’ll find happiness.”

  Huh, happiness might happen to others perhaps … I don’t know if it’ll ever happen for me.